


you have my heart so don't hurt me

by aisu10, rywaen



Series: live to tell the tale [5]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bruce Banner - Freeform, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hearts, I think there were, Jarvis (Iron Man Movies) - Freeform, Junior year, M/M, also, lt4, minor OCs - Freeform, preslash, so we're posting it in full, some conflict, stuff like that, this is the last thing we had finished, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisu10/pseuds/aisu10, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rywaen/pseuds/rywaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony is forgetful and clumsy and Bruce looks after him like always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you have my heart so don't hurt me

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi there! It's been a while, yeah? Well, this is the last chapter that aisu and I had completely finished (and actually it was kinda two chapters, really) and even though we don't think we'll ever continue this series, we're pretty sure that this one is at least good enough to post! To anyone who has been a fan of this series from the start, thank you and we hope you enjoy! To anyone just beginning this series because of this being posted now, well, we hope you enjoy as well, even though this is practically the last chapter.
> 
> Important!!! This is a timeskip from the previously posted chapter. We had more planned in between, but it shouldn't be confusing to read this after reading the freshman year fics.

Tony had been up all night, though that wasn't much of a surprise. He spent a lot of time staying awake throughout the night, working on whatever project he was on or the homework he had for both boarding school and MIT, since they had been oh-so-kind to let him have a dual-enrollment since they had insisted time and time again when he originally insisted on staying in boarding school, even though he was meant to graduate early.

He had been working on a new robot this time, having just finished when he realized he needed to call Bruce to let him know that it was up and running. "JARVIS, call Bruce!"

"Of course, sir," he replied and it began ringing.

Bruce was sitting in his first period Anatomy class, looking down at his desk solemnly as he waited for the exam to be passed out. His pencil was set squarely in front of him and his arms were crossed before it, resting just along the edge. He was getting in the zone - reviewing the test material one more time in his head, determined to get every question correct. Luckily, he liked Anatomy class, and therefore he rarely forgot a single fact. He liked the class for two reasons: (a) the subject interested him, and (b) Tony was in it.

Except, he wasn't in it now.

Bruce's eyes flickered to the side, their gaze falling on Tony's empty seat. He ground his teeth a little as he wondered what the hell his best friend was doing that would cause him to miss a test. He was usually pretty good about that. Usually.

Before he could ponder Tony’s absence any further, Bruce felt a buzzing against his leg. The cell phone that Tony had bought him last Christmas was vibrating in his pocket. Bruce exhaled through his teeth and glanced up to where the teacher was passing out tests in the front row. Luckily Tony had picked them out seats in the back of the room on the first day of class and he would not be there for a while. Bruce shifted his leg and slid his phone out, not even having to look at the caller id to know who it was. He only had one contact anyway.

"Tony?" he hissed into the mic as he held the phone to his ear, "Where the hell are you?"

"Bruce!" he shouted excitedly as he heard his voice, grinning, "I finished! My robot's done, you should see him, he's pretty cool. I mean, I know you just saw it like, yesterday, but goddamn it's so much better now that I'm actually finished. MIT's gonna love it, I just know it. This is gonna blow their minds. Why'd you ask where I am, I should be asking you that. You should be here. Why aren't you here? I need my Bruce. Where are you? Why are you whispering?"

Tony shot off questions in record speed, but Bruce was used to it so he didn't bother slowing down. He might have doubled or tripled the caffeine in his coffee so he could stay up later. He also might not know what day it was any more. It was possible, at least. 

Bruce sat there at his desk, mouth agape, as Tony launched into one of his trademark stream-of-consciousness. babbling sessions. Bruce was quite used to these, but in this moment he didn't exactly have much time to humour Tony. 

"You're going to miss the Anatomy test!" Bruce whispered to him urgently as he ran his free hand through his curls in frustration.

"Anatomy test?" Tony asked, shocked. He turned around to see his clock and, sure enough, it was past time for first period. "Shit! I completely lost track. Bruce! Hold him off, yeah? Or, well, something, I'll be right there." There was a sound of something crashing as Tony tripped over the robot he had just finished creating as he quickly grabbed his pants and his shirt, throwing them on as he ran out the door and JARVIS ended the call. 

The hand in Bruce's hair closed into an anxious fist as Tony hung up, tugging at his curls. He swore, Tony was going to give kill him one day. If not by a panic attack, he would surely blow him up in one of his experiments eventually. Bruce slipped his phone back into his pocket without anyone noticing (no one really paid attention to him anyway) and glanced up at the teacher again. He was halfway through the room and Bruce racked his brain to come up with some sort of distraction as he looked around the room. It didn't need to be something major, as Tony's dorm wasn't too far from the classroom, but he still needed to buy him some time... 

Hating himself for always going out on a limb for Tony, he grabbed the pencil off his desk and shoved it into his backpack before shooting his hand in the air. The sudden movement caught the teacher's attention and he gestured over to Bruce to prompt the question. 

The hand on Bruce's head slid to rest on the back of his neck as he announced, "Sir, I forgot my pencils. May I borrow one for the test?"

"You know my policy about bringing your materials to class."

"I do, sir, I just..." Bruce could feel all eyes in the classroom on him, something he still had trouble dealing with. Feeling beads of sweat began to moisten the his neck, he swallowed hard and continued, "I stayed up late studying and I think I left my pencil case in my room."

"Judging by your aptitude in this subject, Mister Banner, I doubt that you had to study that hard," chided the teacher, embarrassing Bruce even further. As if his reputation as the shy genius wasn't already obvious to everyone in the class...

"I'm sorry, sir," Bruce half-mumbled, sliding down in his chair. He was going to kill Tony.

Alternatively, Tony was just outside the door at this point, and he was about to walk in through the back door when he saw the teacher talking to Bruce though the window. He cursed for a moment as he looked around for an idea for a distraction. Bruce couldn't get in trouble for this. It would ruin everything. 

He looked at the lockers and smiled, suddenly throwing himself at them and bruising his shoulder, but he held up and banged his fists against the metal before running back to the door, watching through the window - at this point, the teacher had turned and gone to the front door of the classroom and Bruce was looking at him through the window - and he counted down in his head to the exact point when he had to open the door and not be seen by the teacher. 

By some miracle, he got it right and dashed through the door as soon as the teacher left to look around the hall for the source of the interruption. Tony tripped as he fell into his seat next to Bruce, his hair messier than normal and his clothes rumpled beyond measure. The teacher turned back around and gave him a studious look.

"Mr. Stark. Did you just come in from the hall?"

"No sir," Tony answered with a grin, staying polite.

"But I was just talking to Mr. Banner and you were not in your seat."

"I was, though, sir. I was under the desk," the class snickered at this and as the teacher turned to chide them, Tony gave them all a silent 'fuck you' as they looked at Bruce, due to the implications. "I was looking for Mr. Banner's pencil case since he let me borrow it and he forgot."

"I just asked him about that and-"

"He doesn't have that much faith in me, sir. Can you blame him? I'm sorry for the confusion, but I think I just saw someone run past the window, you should check it out."

The teacher nodded and turned back around to look outside and Tony turned to Bruce with a withering glance. The rest of the class snickered and tried to stay mostly quiet to not bring the teacher back in with their noise.

"The pencil case again, Bruce? We need to work on your evasion skills. And don't even ask me how I knew, I know your 'I left my pencil case in my dorm' face."

Bruce watched the scene unfold in a state of total mortification. Why did Tony always have to make such a spectacle of himself? He couldn't just enter late and apologize to the teacher for oversleeping? But of course not. Tony never missed a chance to make an entrance.

When Tony finally settled down in his seat, Bruce rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his chest. He refused to look at Tony directly, instead looking down at his pencil-less desk. 

"Yeah, whatever, Tony," he grumbled, "Maybe you should work on your entrances. That was far from smooth." 

He sighed, rubbing his slightly sweaty forehead. He was relieved that Tony had made it, but he wished he hadn't had to make a fool of himself in front of the whole class.

"Could you at least give me a pencil?"

Tony nodded and reached in for his own pencil case, taking out two and handing one to Bruce. He shoved it back into his bag - he was slightly amazed at himself for even remembering it - and settled into his seat as the teacher came back in to finish handing out the tests. He stared at Bruce, pouting just slightly because he wouldn't look at him.

Bruce could feel Tony's gaze on him and could clearly envision the look on his face - big, sad eyes, puffed-out lower lip - a perfect imitation of an attention-starved puppy. But Bruce refused to give him the attention he sought. For now. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay mad at Tony for long. He never could.

Tony wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell him that it was a very good reason to be late since it was technically a school project as well as a personal one, and that he couldn't wait for him to see it. He wanted to give him a hug like he would only sometimes let him. But the teacher was at their end of the classroom and they both finally had their tests, so he turned away from Bruce and they both set to work.

When Bruce finally received his test he blew through it with little difficulty. He filled in every bubble with Tony's pencil, checked his answers once, and then flipped the answer sheet over and sat back in his chair, pulling one arm to his chest as he twirled the pencil in his outstretched hand, inspecting it as if it was very interesting. He could see teeth marks on one end where Tony had chewed on it. 

Tony finished his test a few minutes after Bruce - both of them always being the first ones done - and had he not taken an extra two minutes to keep pouting at Bruce, he might have finished at the same time as him. He flipped his test over as well and turned in his seat to stare at Bruce again, pencil in his fingers, twirling it to match how his friend did it with the other pencil. 

The teacher walked by their desks and picked up their tests so that he could start the pile of tests, the other students not going to be finished for at least five to ten more minutes. Tony finally gave up just staring at Bruce to reach down and grab a piece of paper and scribbling on it quickly before sliding it over in front of Bruce.

‘I'm sorry I'm an idiot, :c’ it said in Tony's messy yet legible scrawl, frowny face included.

Bruce looked down at the paper as it slid across his desk, stealthily helped along by his friend's hand. 

He read the note, rolled his eyes, and scribbled something back in his loopy handwriting. He splayed his hand out on the note and slid to to the edge of his desk for Tony to see.

‘I hate you,’ it read.

Then he leaned back over it for a second and added a ‘:)’ to the bottom.

Tony frowned at the reply before Bruce leaned back over to add the smiley face, which made him grin and he leaned over the paper to draw something. He bit his bottom lip as he focused, scribbling for a few moments before he slid the paper back over to show Bruce.

It was a crude drawing - Tony had never been an artist, yet he could draw blueprints like a pro - of a cartoon robot labeled ‘Tony Stark’ holding an anatomically correct heart that had been drawn around Bruce's ‘I hate you,’ and he added in a ‘too’ after what Bruce had written. He grinned at his friend as he watched for his reaction to the drawing.

Bruce watched Tony's hand scribble on the paper curiously, and when the the drawing was unveiled he smiled down at it. Tony's sense of humor was pretty awesome, he had to admit. Unable to hold his grudge any longer, he finally met Tony's eyes with a crooked grin and amusement in his bespectacled brown eyes.

Tony felt his heart swell at Bruce's smile, glad he had been the one to make him smile like that. He felt like that smile was a reward in itself and he knew that everything was fine between them again, even if Bruce truly had been mad just a few minutes prior. He leaned over again to scribble at the top of the paper.

‘No, but really, you have to see my robot. It's got more social skills than me,’ he wrote, only partially joking.

Bruce could see how happy that simple smile made Tony, and he felt a blush coming on. That was the thing about Tony - he wanted to please everyone. But it seemed, lately more than ever (or maybe he was just now noticing?) that Tony was extremely preoccupied with gaining Bruce's approval. Bruce looked down at the paper, resisting the urge to mess with his glasses as he always did when he was embarrassed, and watched as Tony scribbled out his next message. He smiled and wrote in reply, 'I don't doubt that.'

‘I won't make you miss class today though. It's not going anywhere. Lunch date :)?’ he scribbled, tapping his pencil against the desk as he pushed the paper back over, looking around the classroom quickly to see that a few more of the students had finished. Their teacher seemed to be grading a few previous assignments to pass the time, not even bothering to tell them to stop passing notes when he had probably already noticed.

‘Only if you take me to my favorite place,’ Bruce wrote, glancing over at Tony with a cocked eyebrow. He deserved it after the earlier fiasco.

Tony read over his response and met his eye with a smirk before taking the paper back and writing quickly.

'But of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. Lunch and then back to my dorm for the unveiling of my creation. Sound good?' he replied.

‘As long as we don't miss class,’ Bruce replied on the paper. He'd missed enough classes with Tony in his freshman and sophomore years. He had to be more serious this year if he wanted to get into college.

'Sure, no worries,' Tony wrote and slid it back to him before the teacher announced that time was up and he started collecting the rest of the tests. He began writing a few notes for them on the board that they needed for the next unit and Tony pulled out his notebook for some notes, but mostly to doodle, truthfully.

When class resumed Bruce got out his anatomy notebook and started to take notes. They were now launching into a unit on the cardiovascular system. Bruce copied a diagram of the heart into his notes before glancing over at the picture Tony had drawn for him. The heart he'd drawn was surprisingly accurate. Maybe Tony studied more than he let on to.

Tony wasn't really paying attention. He had read the chapter one night by accident, having skipped a chapter or two in his tired state. So he mostly doodled in the margins of the page he had out. He made a bullet point every now and again, mostly after glancing to Bruce's notes. He pushed his notebook to the front of the desk, crossing his arms and lying his chin atop his arms as he scribbled.

Bruce looked over at Tony's paper to see what he was drawing, but Tony's hand kept moving in the way and he gave up. He looked back to the front of the classroom to see that the teacher had inserted a tape into the TV to show them.

The video that started playing showed an animated diagram of a heart pumping blood and Bruce watched it closely for a long moment. The human body fascinated him. He was already interested in cells and DNA but anatomy class had gotten him hooked on larger things - organs, organ systems, whole beings. The idea that there were so many complex things going on inside himself and each person around him right now was mind-blowing to him. 

As the heart in the video contracted and expanded he imagined it inside him, linked to all other parts of his body by a branching network of veins and arteries and capillaries, and was suddenly hyper-aware of its actual movement in his chest. His eyes wandered over to Tony, and he imagined it inside him, fist-sized and bounding within a slender ribcage, constantly working to keep him alive and grinning and thinking up new inventions and doodling in his stupid notebook instead of taking notes like he should.

As a blush crept to his cheeks, Bruce quickly looked down at his own notebook, telling himself to quit being distracted by Tony's insides because that was weird and why the hell was he even thinking about that. He added a couple of arrows to his existing diagram and dropped his pencil on the desk, rubbing his temples as his brain swam in a mixture of confusion and frustration.

Tony hadn't bothered looking up to watch the video. Movies and clips had never been able to keep his attention and he loathed when teachers used them in class to replace a lecture. Lectures weren't his thing either, but at least then there could be discussion or debate. Something interesting. 

His pencil scratched against his paper, his focus solely on the drawing that he was determined to get right. He wasn't sure why - maybe it was because they were in anatomy class, maybe because he had drawn it before, maybe even because he was half listening to the video after all - but he was drawing a heart again. Not just the two lines that you draw when you're a little kid, but the anatomically correct thing again, just as he had done before on the scratch paper. He added in metal bits here and there, modifying it and making it an android's heart.

The metal was shaded in, the shadows and light on it rather accurate as well. He had never considered himself an artist, but he wasn't too bad when he focused hard enough. The metal parts were the easiest for him, resembling what he would usually draw on blueprints. 

Tony sometimes imagined that he was an android himself, not able to connect with most people, not understanding basic human reasoning or emotions for things that seemed trivial to him. He dreamed of his father creating him in his lab, just another one of his inventions. A boy with a metal heart. Too smart for his own good. Doomed from the start. His mother would have had him just like any other kid, but his father took him away once he was determined healthy and alive. 

He would have worked on him for days, trying to make the perfect son. Cold, calculating, completely perfect. But something went wrong. Something slipped through, just a bit of emotion and care, just that tiny amount of error and it made his father throw him out of his lab, claiming he was just another failed experiment. So the heart on the page was what he determined to be his own. 

Bruce sighed and put down his pencil and Tony turned to look at him, finally sitting up again and revealing his picture. His brow creased as he watched Bruce rub at his temples, suddenly worried for his friend.

He tried to lean forward to catch Bruce’s eye when he noticed his eyes shut tight and he frowned, picking his pencil up again and he jabbed Bruce’s side with the eraser end, trying to get his attention.

Bruce opened his eyes immediately at the touch, simultaneously dropping his hands to the desk and blinking over at Tony. He saw Tony’s frown and realized with an embarrassed twinge that he must have seen Bruce’s moment of frustration. He waved one hand at Tony dismissively, trying to get across to him ‘it’s nothing, I’m fine’ as the other one moved to rest on his chin and cheek, half-concealing his mouth as it propped up his tilted head. Tony had uncovered his drawing now and from his new vantage point Bruce could see what it was. And what he saw an interesting surprise; a very detailed, half-mechanical heart. Bruce’s eyes flickered wider for a split second as he wondered if Tony had somehow been reading his mind, but then he remembered that there was a heart diagram on the board right now so it wasn’t really weird that their minds were apparently on the same track. 

Tony still wasn’t convinced that he was okay, but he noticed Bruce staring at his drawing and he slid it a little closer for him to see it. It was just that; a half-mechanical heart. He smiled softly down at it, the smile fading the longer he stared at it and thought about it actually being his heart. It was kind of ironic, really, if it was his heart because Bruce would really be the only one he’s ever shown it to, just like this drawing. He sighed and tuned out the lesson again as he picked at the corner of the paper.

Bruce crossed his arms on his desk as he shifted closer to Tony and leaned in to get a better look at the drawing. It was detailed indeed, especially the elaborate mechanical parts that Tony probably could build in real life if he decided to experiment in biomechanics. Bruce wondered why he’d drawn it. Was he simply combining the anatomy lesson with the robotics he was more interested in? Or was there some deeper meaning to it? Maybe Tony was just better at understanding things with wires and coding than blood and cells. Then Bruce came to the idea that maybe it was a representation of Tony’s own heart, and he stared at the drawing closely for a moment longer as he applied this theory to it. It was possible that Tony thought himself as more of a machine than a person. Tony had ranted about his father before to Bruce, telling him that his father seemed to think of him as more of a creation than a son. Portraying himself as a cyborg seemed to be a reasonable way to represent that sentiment. Still, the idea that Tony imagined he had metal in his chest was a strange one, and Bruce wondered if his conjecture was completely off-track.

Bruce finally took his eyes off of the drawing and shifted his gaze to Tony’s face. His smile was gone, and Bruce wished that he could have the suspected mind-reading powers that Tony seemed to have so that he could know what his friend was thinking. Tony Stark was such an enigma, metal heart and all. 

Tony felt Bruce’s eyes on him again and he looked up to him. He attempted a small smile, looking back down once more before shoving the notebook away and leaning back in his seat instead, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched the clock tick by for a few seconds, willing it to go faster. He usually liked anatomy, but today he just needed to get out of there.  
Luckily Tony did not have to wait much longer, as the bell rung seconds after he sat back in his chair. Bruce closed his notebook as the teacher turned off the video and turned on the lights. He slid it into his backpack and was about to put his pencil in the side pocket before he realized that it wasn’t actually his pencil. He stood up, backpack over one shoulder like Tony had taught (forced) him to do freshman year, and turned to give Tony his pencil but saw that he was already near the door, waving to Bruce. Bruce decided he’d give the pencil back during gym and waved back to Tony with a small smile before he shuffled off to his Tony-less second period class.

Second period was boring, so much so that Tony had to force himself to stay awake and pay attention to the discussion of the book he had left in his dorm, only vaguely remembering what scene they were talking about. The class droned on, but thankfully it was over relatively soon and he made his way to gym, his bag over his shoulder as he shuffled down the hall. He was tired, the caffeine from the night before finally wearing off and he yawned as he made his way into the locker room, glancing at the clock to see they still had ten minutes before they had to be in the gym to start class. He sat heavily on the bench, leaning back and resting his eyes while the other students came in, waiting for Bruce to show up. 

Bruce was busy all second period doing math, and barely had any time to think. The class wasn’t hard for him, but the teacher always gave them tons of busywork that left the students calculating and scribbling in their notebooks the entire time. Bruce used Tony’s pencil, occasionally forgetting whose it was before catching sight of the bite marks at the tip and smiling to himself. When class let out he headed straight to gym.

Bruce entered the locker room with Tony’s pencil in one hand and his other hand rubbing at the straps of his backpack. He found Tony sitting against the wall with his eyes closed and gently prodded him with the pencil to get his attention.

“Hey, Tony.”

Tony blinked when Bruce poked him, giving him a confused look for a couple seconds before he smiled at his friend. 

“Hey. Guess the coffee’s finally wearing off,” He said with a chuckle, sitting up and scratching at his neck as he stretched. 

“You were up all night again?” Bruce asked, his brow furrowing with concern. It wouldn’t be the first time Tony had done so, not at all. Bruce had actually stayed up all night with him before, overdosing on caffeine and trying to finish up a project before morning. But lately he’d been loathe to join in Tony’s late-night adventures, as he was preoccupied with actually paying attention in school this year.

“Yeah, I mentioned my robot, didn’t I? I finished it. Stayed up all night to do it, but it’s done,” Tony said with a tired sigh. “It’s for MIT, so it was actually kind of important this time.”  
“Yeah, you definitely mentioned the robot,” Bruce said with rolling eyes as he recalled Tony’s morning outburst on the phone, “I’ll see it later. We’ve got to go get dressed for gym, anyway.” He ended in a reluctant sigh and rubbed the back of his head before noticing that he was still holding Tony’s pencil. He offered it to his friend, asking, “Do you want this back or what?”

“What, the pencil? Nah, keep it, I’ve got tons,” Tony said with a smile as he picked up his bag again and went over to his locker to start turning the combo on the lock. He started pulling out his gym clothes from his locker, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to pull on the tank top over his head. “How was your last class, by the way? Math, right?”

Bruce shrugged when Tony refused the pencil and looked down at it for a moment as Tony walked away, absently running his finger over the teeth marks before sliding it into the side of his backpack. He turned around to see Tony already undressing by his locker and swallowed thickly before joining him. He placed his backpack into his locker, which was only a few over from Tony’s, and busied himself with undoing his tie as he answered. “Fine, busy. Not hard, though, it never is. Yours?”

“I had to fight to stay awake. It was so boring. I can’t stand Lit this year. I mean, really. I know I’ve said it before, but this year is the worst. And you know I can usually handle it pretty well. But no.” He rolled his eyes and threw his shirt and tie into the locker, undoing his pants and pulled out his sweats. 

“It’s just idiotic for them to expect me to actually enjoy these books and shit when all we do is read a chapter, talk about it. Read a chapter, talk about it. Read a chapter, and oh, what was that? Right, how could I forget, we talk about it!” Tony threw up his hands in frustration as he turned to face Bruce, looking for agreement or sympathy or something.

Bruce nodded with an expression on his face that looked like some combination of pity and amusement. He understood that Literature class could be monotonous, but he usually ended up enjoying the books they studied, regardless of how many chapters they had to read and talk about. He did sometimes wish that more of the assigned books were scientific rather than fiction (and therefore within his area of interest), but he rarely had trouble staying awake during discussion, unlike Tony. Bruce unbuttoned his shirt with his eyes on his hands, rather embarrassed to look at Tony while he was changing.

“I’m sorry you had to suffer through that, Tony,” Bruce said to his friend, teasing, "Maybe you should just buy the school and then we can make robots all day."

“You say that like a joke, but I’ll have you know that I seriously considered it in the past,” Tony said with a grin to his friend. “It would be so much better if we all just made robots. Or, like, what if all the teachers were robots?” He stood in thought for a moment before a look of pure inspiration came over his face.

“Bruce! You’re a genius! JARVIS can be the principal!” He told him excitedly, as if it was the best idea he had ever had.

Bruce laughed, glad to have cheered Tony up with such a stupid suggestion. He imagined a school with robotic teachers, each with a computerized voice matching that of JARVIS and claws for faces like some of Tony’s prototype helper-robots. 

“That would be pretty cool,” he said as he smiled over at Tony, finally looking up from his now unbuttoned shirt. After taking it off he shoved it in his locker and crossed his arms over his chest for a moment, warming his goose-pimpled skin. 

“Maybe you could program the teachers to ignore you when you come into class late,” he teased, “Then I’d never have to cover for you again.”

“Hell yes, that’d be perfect,” Tony said with a grin, pulling off his pants to change into his sweats. “You and I could just be the rulers of the school. Besides JARVIS. But you know, JARVIS only listens to you and I anyways, so it’d be like us ruling the school. And the teachers would all be made and programed by me. And it’d be amazing.”

Tony pulled out his sneakers to pull them on and he bent down to tie them up quickly before he stood and bounced from foot to foot, his energy back after talking about something he actually enjoyed again. He waited for Bruce to finish, ignoring the glares he got from stepping into someone else’s personal space for a moment as he bounced around.

Bruce changed clothes quickly, wishing that Tony wasn’t jumping around and drawing more attention to their corner of the lockers. It wasn’t that Bruce was ashamed of his own appearance - his lack of muscle definition didn’t really bother him - it was that he didn’t like everyone looking at him, so exposed without his clothing to hide under. He took his glasses off last, folding them and placing them in his locker on top of his neatly-piled clothing. He usually didn’t take off his glasses during school hours, but Gym was the exception to that rule. He just didn’t want to risk breaking them.

Bruce and Tony left the locker room as soon as Bruce was fully dressed, still talking about their plan to take over the school with JARVIS. When they walked into the gym, they were directed to go outside for track. Bruce wasn’t thrilled, to say the least. His idea of exercising involved stretching and meditating, not running around in circles aimlessly. 

“When we own the school, the first thing to go will be Gym class,” Bruce grumbled to Tony as they walked out the doors and into the crisp morning air.

“No protests here. Also, no sports in general. What the fuck is the point of throwing a ball at each other at high speeds? I mean, come on, it’s so boring, not to mention a waste of perfectly good brain cells when people tackle each other and get concussions,” Tony ranted lightly as they made their way out to the track. 

Their coach made everyone line up on the starting line and stretch for a minute or two before he blew his whistle and had the class take off. Most of the other kids shot off like rockets, going as fast as they could to prove themselves to the coach or show up each other, but Bruce and Tony stayed back, running at their own easy pace before Tony ran a little ways ahead of Bruce and turned, running backwards in front of him.

“You know what I don’t get?” He asked Bruce, as if they weren’t running around a track and it was normal to start a conversation like this.

“Tony - wait, Tony, what are you doing?” Bruce asked, rubbing his neck as he jogged along steadily. It wouldn’t be the first time Tony had put himself in some strange situation just to talk to him face to face. “You’re gonna run into someone.” 

“Shut it, I’m fine. It’s just that I’m really wondering how much more, like, percentage-wise, we’d be churning out smart kids if we used robots instead of teachers? It’s like, how would that differentiate?” Tony asked, ignoring the way the coach yelled at him from across the track to turn around.

“Just - Just don’t trip,” Bruce warned Tony as he craned his neck and looked over Tony’s shoulder to make sure he wasn’t heading towards a bump in the track or a stray rock.

“They’d probably be a lot smarter if they weren’t wasting their time in classes like this,” Bruce said, only half his mind on the question as he continued to check for potential dangers, “And robotic teachers would definitely have more efficient schedules and teaching methods. No going off-topic or spending tons of time on one question. I’d have to guess that the students would graduate with at the very least 40 percent higher grades than teacher-taught students, but we’d have to have more data to be able to get an accurate number... Would students have to pass an entrance exam to get into the school in the first place? Because that would mean they were already possessing above-average intelligence...”

“Hm, maybe. I’d like to think so, but then we’d always have the issue of what happens to the students who don’t pass the entrance exam, and then there’s people claiming discrimination, and blah blah blah,” Tony rolled his eyes as he spoke, still running backwards. “I mean, we could just have it not have an entrance exam then, but then we’d have to have remedial classes or fail a shit-ton of kids.”

“The robots would probably be frustrated if they were forced to suffer through endless questions from the less intelligent students,” Bruce replied with a chuckle, “Maybe we could have a sort of aptitude test, and have two different levels for each class? One for the higher-ranked students and one for the lower. And the robotic teachers would have two different types programming, one for each class. Kind of like Honors or AP, and regular - careful, Tony, there’s a branch coming up - ”

“Wha-” Tony managed to turn and glance at the branch before he tripped and landed hard on the track. He heard some of the kids on the other side of the track laughing and he vowed to give them a giant ‘fuck you’ later when he wasn’t lying on his side in the dirt, his arm throbbing in pain. 

Bruce was quick to react, resisting the urge to face-palm as he knelt down next to Tony in the dirt, wringing his hands nervously. “Are you okay? Let me see your arm.”

He could hear the jackasses laughing but ignored them. He was used to this by now.

Tony sat up and turned, showing Bruce the scrapes and a few small cuts that he had received from falling hard and skidding a few feet on his arm. 

“Not too bad, but shit it stings,” Tony said as he looked it over himself. He raised a hand to touch at one of the longer cuts, pulling his fingers away to see the blood. “Dammit, not again. That one’s gonna scar, I know it.”

Bruce gingerly took Tony’s arm in his hands, looking over the cuts and wishing he still had his glasses on him so he could see them better. The longest cut, the one that Tony thought would scar, was the only one with significant bleeding. The rest had only drawn tiny droplets that pooled in the deepest points of Tony’s scraped skin.

“You’re right, that one is pretty deep,” Bruce observed, and then teased: “Maybe if you’d listened to me and not ran backwards you wouldn’t be worrying about a scar right now.”

“Yeah, well, if people weren’t such assholes, I wouldn’t have to worry about how hard I’m gonna punch them in the face later,” Tony retorted, grumbling as Bruce helped him up. He reached down and brushed himself off to get the dirt off of his sweats and he looked around to see if their coach noticed or cared. Of course, he hadn’t. He probably saw the whole thing and ignored it. The head jerk, Mitchell and his jackass friends were all the coach’s favorites. Typical.

Bruce also looked over to the oblivious teacher, wondering if they should ask to go back to the gym and clean up Tony’s arm. He glanced back down to see that his hand was still holding Tony’s after helping him up and he quickly let go, rubbing his hand on the front of his shirt before absently tugging at the fabric.

“Do you want to ask to go inside?” Bruce questioned Tony, “He probably wouldn’t notice if you just left.” He said the last part with a scowl, irritated by the lack of care that the teachers showed toward their students.

“Yeah, fuck him anyways. He’ll be the first to be replaced by a bot,” Tony said broodingly. He held his arm close, making sure to watch his step instead of being careless as he had been before. Well, it wasn’t even that he was careless, it was that they were jackasses and took advantage of Tony’s superior skill at running backwards and holding an intelligent conversation while doing so. So fuck them and their tiny brains.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Bruce asked softly, knowing that the answer would be yes but still wanting to be polite. He knew that Tony could take care of himself, but Bruce really didn’t want to stay out here alone. Especially with those jerks around.

“Yeah, c’mon, lets get out of here before I do something stupid,” Tony grumbled, nudging Bruce’s shoulder with his own. They walked off to the side of the track, staying out of the other student’s way. If the teacher yelled at them - he wouldn’t - they could just always tell him they were going to the nurse - they weren’t - but he didn’t even look up from his clipboard. The jerks who had put the branch in Tony’s way ran past laughing again.

“Hope they like cyanide,” Tony said darkly, knowing Bruce would know he was kidding. It was tempting, but manslaughter was a bit drastic for revenge for being tripped.

Bruce chuckled at that, staying close to Tony as they left the track. “Where are we headed?” he asked once they were out of range of the teachers and other students, “Should we just grab our stuff and go back to your dorm?” Gym was their last class before lunch, so they wouldn’t have to rush back.

“Yeah, hit the locker room then back to headquarters,” Tony agreed. He kicked open the door to the gym, letting Bruce go in as he held it for him. They made their way through to the locker room again, Tony leading them over to their lockers. Tony started pulling out his clothes before he realized that maybe he should check over his arm before he started getting changed.

“I think it’d be best to rinse this fucker off in the shower, what d’you think?” Tony asked, turning to show Bruce again now that they weren’t surrounded by running students and a cloud of dust. 

“Yeah, you’re going to need to rinse and sterilize that before bandaging it up,” Bruce said as he retrieved his glasses from his locker and set them on his nose. Now that he had his vision back he could see the wound much clearer and was able to give Tony a better analysis of the damage. He took Tony’s arm in his hands again and lightly blew off some of the dust and dirt that was sticking to the bloodied skin. 

“It’s not deep enough for stitches or anything, but it is bleeding a lot,” Bruce observed, “And you were right, the big one will probably scar.”

“Think I skid across a rock or something for that one. Stings like a son of a bitch,” Tony replied, trying to ignore the way Bruce blowing across his skin made him shiver and not because he was cold. “Best we can do for now is have me wash it and then we can stop at your dorm for your first aid kit if you’ve still got it,” he suggested. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve got my first-aid kit,” Bruce replied as he released Tony’s arm, his fingers skimming Tony’s skin lightly as he did. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, are you saying you don’t have a first-aid kit?”

Bruce thought Tony, of all people, should have one, considering the amount of stupid things he did on a daily basis.

“Uh...no?” Tony asked, feeling like he was suddenly in trouble and he wasn’t exactly sure why. Bruce was always the one to clean him up when he did something stupid enough to actually warrant a need to clean up. He never had one before, so when he actually needed one later, Bruce always had his. 

Bruce gave Tony a look of sharp disapproval and said, “You should have one. Actually, you should just take mine. You use it more than I do, anyway.”

It scared him to think that someday Tony would get hurt and Bruce wouldn’t be there to clean him up. He needed to know that Tony would be able to take care of himself when he had to.

“But it’s not the same when you aren’t the one who has it, Bruce,” Tony said with a pout. “I don’t need one when you have yours, and if I need it and you’re not around, I can just get yours from your dorm.” And that was true, they both knew Tony could easily break into Bruce’s dorm - or any dorm for that matter, if he wanted to - since he’d done it in the past.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine without it. Besides I only do stupid stuff when I’m around you,” he said, before he realized that hadn’t exactly come out right. “Not that you’re the one who makes me do stupid shit, I do that perfectly well on my own. I mean, you know that. But it’s just that you like, make me want to do stupid things? But, uh, no, that’s still not right. Wait...” Tony’s brow creased and he scratched the back of his head, trying to think of what the hell he was trying to say.

Bruce’s cheeks flushed red with a mixture of embarrassment and some emotion that fluttered in his stomach like a moth and he gave Tony a weak grin as he interjected, “Let’s just get this cleaned up.”

He took his friend by the uninjured hand and walked him over to the showers to get the blood and dirt washed off.

Tony let Bruce walk him over to the showers, keeping quiet so he didn’t say anything else that might be even partially stupid. Which had a very high percentage of actually happening any time he opened his mouth at all. 

Bruce let go of Tony’s hand and turned on the shower, testing the water with his fingertips to make sure it wasn’t too hot or too cold. When he’d determined it was just warm enough to soothe the cut, he stepped back and gestured toward the running water.

“Alright, run that over your arm until it’s clean - make sure you get all the dirt off.”

“Yes, dear,” Tony teased as he stepped forward to run his arm under the spray. He hissed through his teeth at the first contact of water on the cuts, but the pain eased after a moment. He reached up to scrub at the cuts to get the dirt off, ignoring the twinge of pain in favor of getting it clean quickly. His shirt and sweats slowly got soaked from the spray but he didn’t really care, knowing he was just going to change in a few minutes anyways. 

“That good?” he asked as he stepped back out, showing it to Bruce again for him to assess the damage once more.

Bruce nodded as he inspected Tony’s arm again. The blood and dirt was gone, leaving clean pale skin laced with bright pink cuts. Blood was starting to well up in the large cut again, but at least it was clean and not mixing with dust particles. 

“Looks fine, honey,” Bruce countered with half a grin as he reached past Tony to turn off the shower. Then he turned and walked back to the lockers, going to Tony’s instead of his own. He knew Tony’s combination, so he was able to open his friend’s locker and bring his dry clothes over to the shower so he wouldn’t have to wander through the locker room all wet and risk tripping again.

Tony looked up to Bruce as he walked back over with his clothes, pulling his hand away from where he was already picking at the cut, his nail caked with blood. He pulled off his tank top and squeezed out the water before trading it out for his dry shirt, doing the same with his pants.

“You’re too good for me, Brucie-kins,” Tony told him with a grin, taking his wet clothes back from him and heading back to his locker to hang the wet clothes from the small hook in the back of it. 

“You’re right,” Bruce chuckled as he stood there holding Tony’s damp clothing and keeping his eyes on the steady dripping of water onto the floor in favor of watching Tony change, “What would you do without me?”

When Tony took the clothes Bruce wiped his wet hands on the thighs of his sweats and headed back to his own locker to change. 

"No clue, but I'm glad I won't ever have to find out," Tony said with a grin. 

"So, we still on for that lunch date after we make it so that I'm not bleeding everywhere?" Tony asked as he closed up his locker again after toeing off his sneakers and pulling out his regular shoes and made sure everything was in its place. He sat on the bench while Bruce changed, tying his shoes and checking over his arm again while he waited.

"Yeah, we are." 

Bruce finished changing clothes and turned to face Tony as he bent forward to retie his school shoes, his currently untucked button-down sliding a little up his spine as he did. When they were tied he straightened up, fixed the bottom of his shirt, and closed his locker behind him. 

“Great,” Tony said, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder as he straightened up. “Let’s get out of here, then.” 

Bruce led the way to his dorm, where he figured they’d patch Tony up and then either drop by Tony’s dorm for a minute or just head straight out to lunch. They arrived to an empty room, as it was during class hours and Bruce’s roommate didn’t have a penchant for skipping class to play doctor to billionaire kids like Bruce did. Bruce knelt by his bed and fished out the first-aid kit from beneath it. 

Tony sat on Bruce’s bed, cross-legged and he took off his shirt, knowing it would be easier to patch it up without getting any of his clothing in the way. He picked at it again, frowning as the blood flowed freely down his arm and he watched it catch on the hairs on his arm, beading up heavier and flowing down again.

Bruce sat up with the kit in his hands and looked over to see a shirtless Tony settled on his bed, picking at his cuts. He blushed a little, cursing Tony's complete lack of self consciousness regarding his body. Bruce had walked in on Tony sitting in his underwear more than once in the past. It had always made Bruce feel hot and embarrassed and strange. At least he still had his pants on this time.

Bruce rubbed the back of neck, standing and letting out a puff of air before dropping the first-aid kit on the bed and opening it up. He handed Tony a sterilized cloth and said, "Stop picking at it, that's not going to help at all. Hold this on it to stop the bleeding while I find the Neosporin..."

Tony made a face when Bruce told him to stop picking at it, but he relented and grabbed the cloth, laying it on top of the cut. He let go of it and frowned, holding it down instead of just letting it sit there. 

“If you don’t get older and become a doctor, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Tony told him, only half-joking. He lifted the cloth again to check the bleeding, wondering if it had stopped yet and, of course, it hadn’t. He was rather impatient. 

Ignoring the sass Tony was giving him, Bruce pondered the suggestion while he dug for the medicine he sought. “Hmm, I don’t know. I can’t say I’m not interested in the idea. Especially with Anatomy class this year, it’s really... fascinating. But there are so many sciences to study, and I really like nuclear physics, too... It’ll be a tough decision.”

He finally found a small packet of Neosporin and moved the kit over a little so he could sit next to Tony on the bed, dropping the packet in his lap. He saw Tony peeking at the still-bleeding cut and frowned, waving Tony’s hand away and holding the injured arm by the wrist as he pressed down on the cloth himself, gentle but firm.

“Geeze, be gentle with me, I bruise easy,” Tony teased when Bruce took over, but he didn’t move or resist the push against the wound. He watched Bruce’s hands on him for a moment before he looked away, keeping his mind from wandering to places it didn’t need to be. He picked up the packet of Neosporin in his lap and turned it over to read the ingredients, curious as to what was supposed to heal his cuts. 

“Stop complaining and I’ll give you a lollipop later,” Bruce snapped, a grin ghosting his lips as he continued to press the cloth on Tony’s arm. He could feel warm blood still oozing onto the cloth and applied a little more pressure, imagining that if he pressed hard enough Tony’s blood would crawl back into his veins and his wounds would heal. Bruce only realized he might actually be holding on too hard when his fingers unintentionally picked up the pulse in Tony’s wrist, which instantly snapped him out of his concentration. He quickly loosened his hold, hoping Tony hadn’t noticed. He noticed the medicine leaving his lap and without removing his eyes from the cloth he explained in a soft voice, “It’s a triple antibiotic ointment intended to prevent infection and speed up healing.”

“Yeah, definitely a doctor,” Tony replied quickly, smirking at him as he handed him the packet again. He had felt the pressure on his arm, but he didn’t mind, trusting Bruce completely that he knew what he was doing and he had a reason why he did it. Hell, he had done this enough for him. 

“And I’m curious about this lollipop offer. Is it choose-your-own-flavor or do I have to pull it randomly out of a box?” Tony teased, inserting true curiosity into his tone with ease. Had it been anyone else, Tony might have asked what kind of lollipop he meant, but knowing Bruce, he wouldn’t appreciate the raunchy humor as much. Also, that made his mind go to the places it shouldn’t be. And that wasn’t a good idea when he was sitting shirtless on Bruce’s bed, in Bruce’s dorm, with Bruce’s warm hands on his arm.

“I’ll let you choose,” Bruce chuckled as he finally removed the cloth to check the bleeding again. It had pretty much stopped, but now the skin around the cuts was sprinkled red with leftover blood droplets that the cloth didn’t pick up. Bruce clicked his tongue and flipped the cloth over, exposing its dark red underside in order to wipe the clean side against Tony’s skin and absorb the leftover blood. When the wound was clean, he placed the bloody cloth on top of the kit beside him and took the Neosporin back from Tony, ripping the edge of the packet with his teeth. He squeezed it out on the cuts, rubbing it in gently with one finger. His other hand had not left Tony’s wrist the entire time.

“Good, then I’ll gladly accept that offer,” Tony replied with a smile even though he knew Bruce was focused on his arm and not his face. He watched Bruce work, wiping the blood away with a click of his tongue and Tony licked his lips, swallowing the comment he was about to make. He resolved to continue to keep his mouth shut when he watched him tear open the medicine, swallowing hard again and biting his tongue to not say a word about what he was thinking the moment he did that. He held in a shiver from the cool cream, feeling it warm instantly from Bruce’s finger.

The constant pressure on his wrist was soothing, just like Bruce’s presence always was to him. He helped him think and kept him grounded. From the very first day he had met him, two years ago now, he had felt like Bruce was the rock he had needed to keep him from floating away. He hadn’t decided yet if he was a better river or a balloon, but he was either of the two, and without Bruce to tie him down, he’d be swept away by everything. 

Up close and quiet like this, Bruce could hear the wet sound of Tony licking his lips and his determined swallow, and Bruce tried not to get distracted by it all as he finished applying the ointment. As soon as he finished he looked up at Tony, meeting his eyes as he slowly and possibly reluctantly relinquished his grasp on his wrist. “I’m going to bandage it up now, hold still.”

He turned and dug through the kit again until he found the gauze, then began to wrap it around Tony’s arm, making sure that it was tight enough to help the wound heal but not tight enough to cut off Tony’s circulation.

“Got it, won’t move,” Tony assured him, staying as still as he could as Bruce found the gauze and began wrapping his arm. He watched him carefully, his free hand tapping a soft tune on his knee as he worked. He could tell that his friend was putting in a lot of effort to fix him up good, just like he always did. He knew he didn’t deserve the amount of care Bruce gave him with things like this, but he had tried to deny the help once in the past and he vowed he’d never tell Bruce he couldn’t help him again. When Bruce finished, he looked it over again quickly, not yet pulling his arm away. “So what d’ya say, doc? Will I live?”

Once he had covered all of the affected area, Bruce clipped off the gauze and placed the roll back in the kit. He picked up the bloody cloth and the now-empty Neosporin packet in one hand, planning to dump them in the trashcan as they left the room, and closed up the kit, picking it up in his free hand. Then he glanced over at Tony, flashing him a grin. “You’ll live long enough to take me out to lunch, but I can’t guarantee any longer than that.” 

“Well, I guess we should make sure that this lunch is great then, if it’s gonna be my last meal!” Tony told him as he shifted his legs and stood up from Bruce’s bed, grabbing his shirt a moment later. He held it up to see that the blood had seeped into the sleeve when he wasn’t looking. 

“Looks like I need a new shirt. We can stop by my dorm and then go,” he said, rolling his shoulder for a moment and getting used to the bandages on his arm. “Sound good?”

Bruce grinned as he crossed the room and emptied his hand into the trash. He turned to Tony in time to see the blood on his sleeve. "Yeah, a shirt change is a good idea."

“Great, ready then?” Tony asked as he threw his shirt over his shoulder and made his way to Bruce’s door.

Bruce opened the door to find John standing just outside it, hand hovering as if he were about to put it on the doorknob when it had opened unexpectedly. His mouth was agape in shock. Bruce felt himself blushing instantly when he realized that his roommate had just caught him cutting class in his room with a still-shirtless Tony.

He thought he should make some sort of excuse - say something, anything - and so he told John in a voice shaking with embarrassment: “We were just - “

John raised a hand to silence him, shaking his head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He walked past the two of them into the dorm room, pausing to look Tony up and down with as if he were sizing him up, and then closed the door behind him muttering, “During school, too... Could at least leave a sock on the door...”

Tony stared after him as he closed the door, brow creased slightly, not having heard what he said, since he was farther into the hall. He turned back to Bruce and shook his head, “John keeps getting weirder as time goes on, you know that?” 

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a long stream of air and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he composed himself. “I don’t know what’s going on with him...” he groaned. He shook his head once to clear it before beginning to walk in the direction of Tony’s dorm.

“Since John is back, I suppose classes are out already. We should hurry if we want to have enough time to eat,” Bruce told Tony, his calm restored.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” Tony assured him as they made their way through the halls and back to his room. Due to the fact that Tony still hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on, he got a few long stares as they went on their way. There were whispers, giggles, and gasps from the girls they passed by, but Tony mostly ignored them, mostly focusing on getting to his dorm and picking at the bandaging on his arm.

Bruce ignored the giggles of the girls in the hall as well, keeping his gaze locked firmly on his shoes as he walked. He didn’t know why everyone was making such a big deal out of it. This definitely wasn’t the first time Tony had walked down a hallway shirtless.

Tony opened up the door when they got to his dorm, ignoring the immediate quip from JARVIS, deciding to leave the shirt on his bed until later to see if he could get the stain out. He started rummaging through his closet for a new shirt, deciding on one quickly and checking the bandages once more before he slid it on and buttoned it up. “Alright, lunch?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Bruce replied, relieved that he was finally going to get the lunch he’d been promised that morning. He left the first-aid kit on Tony’s bed before they left the room, still firmly believing that Tony would get much more use out of it than he would.

“Yes sir, Mr. Banner, sir,” Tony said, grinning as he opened the door and gestured for Bruce to go first. He followed him out and locked the door behind them, sliding his key and his hands into his pockets. “So, your favorite place, yeah?”

“Yeah. Suehiro’s,” Bruce clarified, though he doubted that Tony had forgotten it. The two had first gone to eat there during sophomore year and it instantly became Bruce’s favorite. It was a cozy, traditional Japanese place, family-owned, but just expensive enough to be considered a fancy restaurant, meaning Bruce could only go there on Tony’s treat. And as much as Bruce loved the place, he was a bit prideful with the whole letting-Tony-pay thing. He typically only let Tony buy him food when Tony owed him a favour - which today was exactly the case.

“Got it,” Tony replied, grinning as they made their way out to the student parking lot. He was among the ranks - or, rather, probably the head of the ranks - of students who were rich enough to own a car to drive off of school grounds on the weekends or evenings. It wasn’t much, just one of his father’s unused ones, but it was something. He unlocked the doors when they got to his parking spot, letting them both get in and get settled before he took off out of the lot. 

When they got to the restaurant it was mostly empty, which was to be expected seeing as it was the middle of the day. Bruce and Tony were seated almost immediately at one of the traditional Japanese tables that was so low to the ground that they sat on the floor to eat. Bruce liked this. He was interested by culture and tradition and he liked the atmosphere of the place - it was a nice escape from the boring, bland routine of high school life. They ordered a sushi roll to share and an entree each - Chicken Donburi for Bruce and Beef Teriyaki for Tony - and ate it all with chopsticks as they talked.

During a lull in their conversation about how to program robotic teachers to anticipate stupid questions that smartass kids might come up with, Bruce chewed his food and thought back to Anatomy class when Tony had shared his drawing. He was still itching to know what Tony had been thinking when he drew it. He had a problem with that - he couldn’t help but want to analyze his friend like he would one of his experiments, open up his mind and figure out how it worked. He decided he would bring up the drawing casually, nonchalantly.

“Hey, that picture you drew in anatomy class this morning was cool,” he said after swallowing, meeting Tony’s eyes for a second before looking down at his glasses, which were folded on the table beside his bowl.

“The picture I drew?” Tony asked, trying to recall what Bruce was talking about before he remembered. “Oh, wait, picture? The heart, right? Or the robot? Because I liked the robot too.” He sucked on the end of his chopsticks for a moment to get the sauce off before he set them down to take a drink.

"I, uh, meant the heart. But the robot /was/ great," Bruce replied, a grin tugging at his lips. He moved his chopsticks around in his food but didn't pick up another bite as he waited for Tony's response. 

“Yeah,” Tony grinned for a moment, thinking about the bot while he drank his tea, setting it down again and picking his sticks back up. “The heart though? What about it?”

"I just thought it was interesting," Bruce mused, tapping his chopsticks idly against the side of his bowl, "Thinking of delving into biotechnology, or was it just a doodle?"

"Nah, just a doodle, I guess. But biotech would be cool. Not really for me, though," Tony said with a shrug, looking down to the sushi on the table in between them. "Just a lot on my mind, I guess."

Bruce pondered that for a moment, finally taking another bite of chicken and chewing it thoughtfully. He wanted to ask Tony what was on his mind that warranted such a drawing, but he didn't really know how to say it. 

"What... What made you think of it?" Bruce tried, glancing down at his glasses again.

Tony thought about not telling him for a moment, keeping it to himself and not ever mentioning it again, but...This was Bruce. Bruce, who was always there for him and who had listened to him rant and rave for hours and he had done the same in return. Bruce who was his only friend in the world and who had stood up for him just as many times as he stood up for Bruce. They got each other. They needed each other. 

"My dad, mostly," which was true enough and the very core of it, at least.

"Oh."

Bruce had imagined so. It seemed that Tony's problems always stemmed from his father. Bruce knew all about Howard Stark already - he was a frequent subject of Tony's angry rants, and Bruce had even met him a couple of times. In short, he knew that they didn't get along in the slightest.

"Something new? Or, just... The usual?" Bruce asked quietly. Then he added, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." 

He knew that Tony struggled with his relationship to his father every day, but he just wanted to make sure that nothing new had come up that Tony might want to get off his chest.

“Nothing new, really. Just...you know,” Tony said with a shrug, idly picking at his food. “He called me the other day, just to talk, he said. He never fucking does that. You know he doesn’t. And all he talked about were the projects he’s working on and he didn’t once ask me about school, or what I’m doing, or me in general.” He paused, feeling extremely frustrated by everything. 

Bruce nodded in reply, not having to say aloud that he got it. He knew what it was like to feel unloved, and Tony knew he knew, so he really shouldn’t have even prompted Tony to talk about it in the first place. What was he expecting to gain from this conversation, anyway? Insight into Tony’s mind, right? He suddenly felt awful for looking at his friend in this way, like a puzzle to be figured out instead of a person. He looked down at his food, not sure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce murmured, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony assured him, “You’re the only one I can even talk to about it.” He gave him a small smile and shrugged. There was more to it that he didn’t tell Bruce, couldn’t tell him, but he didn’t mention it. 

“I’m glad you can talk to me, then,” Bruce responded, voice gentle and low. He liked the idea that he was the only one Tony could talk to, as selfish as it seemed. Tony was the only one Bruce had ever confided in, and it filled his chest with warmth to know that Tony felt the same way about him. 

“Yeah, me too,” Tony agreed. He nodded slowly and ate the last few bites left of his food, finishing up and pushing the plate towards the center of the table. He set his hands in his lap, pressing his fingers hard into his crossed ankles as he waited for Bruce to get done as well.

Bruce ate the last bits of chicken in his bowl before placing his chopsticks inside it and picking up his glasses, returning them to his nose. He shot Tony a sad smile across the table. “I guess this means we have to go back to school.”

“Yeah,” Tony let out a sigh and returned his apprehensive smile, “Guess so.” Their waiter came up with the check a moment later and Tony took it immediately, barely even looking at the price before he slid in his card and handed it back to the waiter for him to put the payment through. It didn’t take long, the waiter returning after a few short minutes to hand back the card and Tony stood from his spot on the floor, turning to Bruce after he stretched. “Ready then?”

Bruce unfolded his legs slowly, stretching them out one at a time before springing to his feet. He brushed off any crumbs that may have landed on his clothing while he ate and cracked his spine, then nodded at Tony. “Sadly,” he said, half a grin on his face. 

Tony grinned back at him and led them out, thanking the owner on their way out and he unlocked his car, both of them sliding in easily and buckling in before Tony turned on the engine and pulled out. He turned the music up just a bit more to fill the silence between them even though their silences were rarely awkward. He tapped his fingers to the beat of the music as they made their way back to the school. 

His parking place was still free when they returned, so he pulled in quickly and shut off the car, getting out and shoving his keys and his hands deep into his pockets as he rounded the front to meet Bruce on the other side so they could walk in together. 

When they got to school the bell was already ringing to tell them to get to class, so they headed straight to their lockers without stopping at their dorms. This year they had lockers right next to each other because upperclassmen were allowed to choose lockers instead of being assigned the leftovers like the sophomores and freshman. Bruce gets out his ridiculously heavy American History book and notebook and crouches down to put them in his backpack, glancing up at Tony with a small grin. “When we have robot teachers, we’ll use electronic books, too, right Tony?” 

“Ugh, definitely,” Tony agreed as he pulled out his math book and swung his backpack off his shoulder and let it drop heavily to the floor next to Bruce. He unzipped the bag and shoved the book in behind his folders, grabbing out his anatomy folder to switch it out. He paused as he put it back in his locker, seeing the corner of the drawing sticking out. He frowned at it in thought for a moment before sliding it out and grabbing the folder he needed. 

“Here,” he said quickly, extending the drawing to Bruce after he crouched back down to put the folder in his bag.

Bruce looked up from the backpack he’d just finished zipping to see Tony’s cyborg heart drawing floating before his eyes, being offered to him by Tony himself. Bruce blinked at it incredulously for a second before meeting Tony’s eyes and asking, unsure and hesitant, “You want me to keep it?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied with a shrug. “I mean, you said you really liked it and I probably would have just, you know, thrown it away.” He held it out a bit more, shaking it as if that would get Bruce to take it faster. He zipped his bag up with his free hand and shouldered it, standing again to close his locker.

“Alright, alright,” Bruce said, finally taking the drawing from Tony. He slid his backpack onto his shoulder, eyes still on the drawing in his hand as he stood up. He knew it was just a drawing, but something about the gesture seemed strangely intimate to him - Tony had just metaphorically handed him his heart, and a blush crept to Bruce’s cheeks at the thought of all that that entailed. Finally looking away from the picture as he nudged his locker closed with his shoulder, he met Tony’s eyes and said, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tony gave him a soft smile and shoved both his hands in his pockets, one foot tapping the toe of his shoe nervously against the floor behind him. The bell rang again indicating that they had two minutes left to get to class so he started walking backwards from Bruce to his class. “I’ll, uh, see you in physics, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you later, Tony,” Bruce replied, nodding and returning the smile before teasing: “And don’t walk backwards anymore!”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got the best doctor around!” Tony shot back before he turned on his heel and made his way down the hall, waving to him as he turned the corner and lost sight of him completely.


End file.
